I Almost Met Mel Gibson in my Site

In mid-December, I was walking past a vacant cow pasture, when a helicopter flew over me at low altitude. This is not entirely unusual – I've seen helicopters out here before, though never this close. I ignored it until it started circling and swinging to the side, as if to get a look below. Then it started landing in the pasture.

I'd heard rumors that Mel Gibson had come to the Comarca to make a movie about the Ngäbes. This is entirely possible, as Mel Gibson has a house in Panamá and is active with local charities. Plus, he made that movie Apocalypto. So as the helicopter descended, I was convinced that Mel Gibson was inside, had seen me walking by, and wanted to talk to me about making a Ngäbe movie.

This created a serious problem for me: since his anti-Semitic outbursts a few years ago, I've been boycotting Mel Gibson movies. Which has been really hard for me, cause I like his acting and I love Braveheart. But now, this Holocaust-denying douchebag was landing fifty feet from where I stood and he needed my help making a movie. A mental debate raged: do I shake his hand and help him, or tell him to go fuck himself?

The helicopter landed, it's physical blades slowing as my mental blades stormed, and of course, Mel Gibson was not inside.

Turns out, some top political person was visiting my town to make an appearance while the bi-monthly welfare was being distributed. As such, one of the national newspapers had dispatched a helicopter with a cameraman and a reporter to cover the event. The helicopter seemed pretty unnecessary, as there is a paved road coming into my site from the main highway, but the reporter was a good looking female, so I figure that had something to do with it.

Anyway, they got out, surrounded by a crowd of curious onlookers and one of my work counterparts went over and literally pointed them in the right direction. (This amused me – when giving directions to a helicopter, you don't have to say, turn left, you can just point).

They left and I watched, feeling pretty silly for unnecessarily putting myself through such mental and emotional strain. The worst part is, I never even decided what I would do (I really like Braveheart).

Ok, so the title of this post is a blatant lie, but it's like they say: never let the truth get in the way of a good title.